


Maybe Later

by cleo4u2



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Blow Jobs, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate use of frosting, M/M, PWP, Reverse birthday presents?, Sarcasm, Smut, Tomy loves it, steve is a shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: After Tony finally gets Steve's attention inMake a Wish, Steve delivers on his promise of later.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Make a wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397616) by [opposablethumbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/pseuds/opposablethumbs). 



> Thanks to [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile) for the quick, lovely beta (She admitted she liked this Stony! Victory!). 
> 
> Extra thanks to [opposablethumbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/profile) for letting me sling shot off her drabble, not to mention all the Stony love I got to borrow. Go check out her drabble before readingnthis for context; its worth it!
> 
> Thanks to [chiyume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/profile) for also borrowing her pool table blow job idea.

Steve watched Tony at the pool table sink the two ball into the center pocket, then pick up his bourbon and take a long drink. The party, Steve’s 97th birthday party, had wound down hours ago, the guests having gone, and the Avengers to their respective floors. It looked like Tony had retreated here, gone through half a bottle of bourbon while playing nine-ball after Steve had… Snub wasn’t quite the right word. What he’d done was spend time with his friends. For once Sam and Nat had been in the same place at the same time and Steve wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see them both at once.

Making Tony think his earlier ‘maybe’ was a ‘no’, however, hadn’t been his intent, not when it was his fault they’d been waiting this long. Steve wasn’t about to suggest there was no reason for his doubts, but Tony flirting with him was just…what Tony did. He flirted with everyone. Why would Steve look deeper into it? Brushes to his shoulder, his hand, his knee and thigh were all Tony’s lack of personal space.

Now, though, Steve could see it had meant something. They’d been hints, Tony’s desire for his attention wasn’t just Tony needing validation. He wanted Steve. Very specifically, he wanted a blow job from Steve, but that was much the same thing. Given Tony’s history with relationships, there was no guarantee he wanted more, but Tony had been so persistent. Not to mention, he appeared pretty disappointed now.

Tony sank the three ball into the corner pocket and Steve shook his head. Not at Tony, though he’d taken several shots to sink that hit, but at himself. How many times over the last month had Tony asked him out? It had felt like New York had a spate of new five star restaurants opening, another being announced at least once a week. Steve, of course, had declined. Fancy restaurants weren’t really his thing. 

Restaurants weren’t the only outings Tony had wanted to go on this month. Gallery events, concert tickets, helicopter tours, the next suggestion more outlandish than the last. Not to mention most taking place while Steve was working. Lately he’d thought Tony had made some kind of bet with Clint to see what he could talk Steve into doing, but the suspicion that Tony was truly, really asking him out, hadn’t once crossed his mind.

Steve hadn’t known he was being asked out or he would have said yes, or taken time away from work. Tony was funny, irreverent, and unafraid to do what was right when everyone else wanted them to do what was wrong. Unlike most people in Steve’s life, Tony had never put him on a pedestal, always treating him as an equal. He wasn’t always the easiest to get along with, but Steve knew that was as much his own fault as Tony’s, and he certainly wasn’t hurting in the looks department. If he was being honest, Steve had had more than one dream about what that facial hair would feel like between his cheeks.

They _had_ made it to one gallery opening, a local artist that Steve had been following after stumbling upon her first gala. A date, he realized guiltily, he had spent talking with the artist, then babbling about the work, hardly letting Tony say a word. It was a reversal of their usual conversations, not that Steve had thought anything unusual about it at the time. Tony didn’t actually like galleries, so Steve hadn’t expected him to have much to say. That he’d wanted to go at all was a surprise.

Steve felt a little stupid after he’d seen the birthday cake. ‘Blow Me’ was a little hard to brush off. Not that Tony had been immediately willing to admit his intent, trying to play it off that Steve would be ‘blowing out the candles.’ Steve was naive, but he wasn’t an innocent. He knew what a damned blowjob was and when someone was asking for one.

Asking for one on _Steve’s_ birthday, no less.

Tony jumped, missing the four ball, as Steve snorted aloud. Whirling about, he stared at Steve in surprise as he finally walked out of the shadowed doorway and into the low-lit room. When Steve looked pointedly at Tony’s drink, the man had the graciousness to look chagrined.

“I’m not drunk,” he promised, “just a little buzzed. Wasn’t expecting to see you again tonight and, uh…”

“Disappointed?” Steve asked letting his hands hang free as he slowly walked towards him. Satisfyingly, Tony’s eyes went wide, and he thumped the glass down onto the table, before pushing it away. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, leaning back against the pool table as Steve stepped into his personal space. “For?”

Steve smiled, gratified when Tony’s breath hitched like it had earlier, and leaned in, forcing Tony to bend back over to the table. Placing his own hands on either side of Tony’s, he boxed the genius in, using his greater height to his advantage. Between them, Tony had the advantage of experience, but Steve now had the advantage of surety. 

“Not realizing what you were asking me before tonight.”

A small cocky smile slipped onto Tony’s lips. Contrary to the smirk, the hand Tony pressed to Steve’s chest was tentative. Uncertain. It told Steve everything else Tony wasn’t saying. That this wasn’t just about sex.

“Consider yourself forgiven,” Tony said, “assuming it’s ‘later.’”

Steve laughed, then leaned in enough to brush their lips together. It was short, a chaste thing, but Tony stopped breathing. Steve knew because it rushed out of him a long moment after they parted, Tony’s dark eyes having fallen shut. It left Steve with a rush, knowing he could do that to the unflappable Iron Man. He had that power, with just a little kiss.

When he lifted his hand to slip his fingers beneath Tony’s waistband, dark eyes flew open again and Steve smirked.

“Might be later.” 

Steve tugged lightly at Tony’s pants, pulling the fabric away from his body, and sliding his fingers toward the button. Teasing, not touching him, but inescapably in Tony’s pants. Once again, Tony’s eyes went wide, darting down to Steve’s hand; he had to see this was happening to believe it. Before he could look back up, Steve thumbed open the button on Tony’s slacks and smirked as Tony licked his lips.

“Though,” Steve slowly lowered Tony’s zipper, “it is _my_ birthday.”

“Well,” Tony swallowed hard, “you could look at it like a gift. Me giving you my dick.”

Laughing - because that was utterly ridiculous and vintage Tony - Steve slipped his hand into Tony’s pants, his underwear, and wrapped his hand around his prick. Groaning, Tony leaned hard against the pool table, eyes fluttering closed. He was half hard already, and growing firmer by the second within Steve’s grip. 

When he pulled Tony out of his pants and sank to his knees in one motion, Tony blurted, “Holy shit.”

Steve squeezed his cock, opening his mouth and leaning forward, holding eye contact with Tony the entire time. When the tip was millimeters from his lips, he paused and sat back. Tony’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, his jaw dropping open. Absently, Steve gave his now fully hard cock a single stroke and stood up again.

“You know,” Steve said conversationally, “I never got any of that cake. Birthday boy should get some cake, don’t you think?”

“I,” Tony managed, “What?”

“Cake, Tony,” Steve repeated even as he reached between the man’s legs and brushed his thumb over his tip. Gathering the pre-come that had beaded from the slit, he brought it to his lips and pressed the pad between his teeth. Licking it clean, he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh,” Tony said. “Yes?”

Leaning forward until their noses brushed, Steve said, “Good,” and pulled completely away once more.

The pool room was large and open, like every other room in Tony’s home. It had the added attraction of dim lighting, making it one of Tony’s favorites, not to mention its own small bar. Steve hadn’t missed the half-eaten slice on the bartop and, as he really hadn’t gotten around to eating any of the cake - it said _blow me_ for Christ’s sake - he was going to put it to good use now.

Picking it up, Steve took a bite with Tony’s fork as he wandered back toward where Tony was still leaning against the pool table looking confused and dazed. Steve pulled the fork slowly from his mouth, licked away the frosting, and smiled smugly as Tony stared at his lips. 

“Anyone ever tell you,” Tony said, “that you’re an asshole?”

Laughing again, Steve set the cake at Tony’s side and scooped off a fingerful of frosting. Pressing it to Tony’s lips, he asked, “Is that your way of saying you’ve changed your mind about us?”

“No-o,” Tony said quickly. 

Whatever else he meant to say was lost as Steve pushed his finger between Tony’s lips. Being he was a genius, Tony caught on quick, wrapping his lips around the digit and sucking. Steve didn’t hold back his groan, staring at Tony’s lips as his tongue joined in, teasing what it would be like if their positions were reversed.

Pulling his finger free, he scooped up more frosting.

“So it’s that you think I don’t deserve some of my own cake?”

“You definitely deserve cake,” Tony insisted, his eyes suddenly earnest, “I’ve been trying to show you just what I think you deserve and I know the cake was pretty crass, but I’d been trying and it wasn’t working. I thought maybe I was misreading things, but you’re _you_ , and I…”

Heart pounding, Steve interrupted Tony’s by smearing more frosting over Tony’s dick. Eyes going wide, Tony looked down, then back up at Steve, and swallowed hard. Steve just raised an eyebrow, bringing his hand back to his face to lick it clean. Outwardly, Steve knew he looked calm, but inside he knew that sentence could end too many ways he didn’t want.

“Christ, you’re kinkier than I thought,” Tony said instead of continuing. “Well, as they say in France, ‘Let them eat cake!’”

Trying to contain his giggle - Steve was on a mission here - he sank back to his knees and braced his hands on Tony’s hips. This time he didn’t tease, leaning in and licking the frosting from Tony’s tip. Both Tony’s hands fell to Steve’s head, tangling in his hair, and Steve had to smile. Licking again, he watched Tony’s eyes fall shut, though he didnt moan until the third swipe of his tongue.

“Not gonna be too loud, are you?” Steve teased, letting his tongue run up the entire length of Tony’s cock this time, from root to tip.

“It’s my house,” Tony said between panting breaths.

“Don’t care if we’re caught?” 

Tony laughed, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“Caught getting being blown by Captain America? Not at all. That’ll be great for my reputation. Your’s on the oth-” Steve sucked Tony into his mouth and his body curled over Steve’s head. “Oh, fuck.”

It was a surprisingly effective way to shut Tony up. Taking as much into his mouth as he could, Steve wrapped his fist around the rest of Tony’s cock. Sucking hard, he lashed the head with his tongue, then pulled back and off. Tony whined as Steve licked his slit, the flared ridge of his head, and then slid down again.

“Oh, my god, Steve,” Tony groaned, apparently only silenced for a few moments after all. “Your mouth is amazing. Why haven’t we been doing this from the beginning?”

Pulling back off, Steve said, “Because you stomp around, Tony.”

Sliding Tony back into his mouth, he watched Tony shudder and shake his head.

“I did,” he panted, “Not any more. Just, fuck, _Steve_.”

Feeling guilty, Steve sucked harder, moved faster, and Tony stayed slumped over his head. Moving his hand in time with his head, Steve stroked and sucked, licked and bobbed, enjoying the slide of Tony’s prick over his tongue. It was heavy and warm, sweet from the frosting, but bitter as pre-come dripped from the tip. Tony didn’t thrust, his velvet shaft sliding in and out of his mouth only as fast as Steve wanted, showing a surprising amount of control.

All that was holding him up evidently were the hands in Steve’s hair. His thighs were already trembling, surprisingly fast considering they’d been at it less than ten minutes. Then again, Tony _had_ been drinking, and Steve was throbbing himself without having been touched at all. Above him, Tony kept moaning, breath ragged, his hands digging into Steve’s shoulders. He was a picture of debauchery with his eyes closed and his lips permanently parted.

Dropping his hand from Tony’s hip, Steve unbuttoned his own pants, shoved down his fly, and took himself in hand. Tony was too far gone to notice, hands squeezing hard enough on Steve’s shoulders that his nails were digging into skin. If Steve could have sucked harder, he would have, but even Steve had limits. He didn’t let up, though, moaning now around Tony’s cock as he stroked himself as well, both hands in time, easing the ache in his groin. The pleasure curled within him, tightening like coils, as he listened to Tony’s moans, his gasping breaths, and knew _he_ had done that. _He_ was responsible for the twitching of Tony’s thighs, the hands squeezing his shoulders with surprising strength, and the way Tony was biting his lip so hard it had turned white beneath his teeth.

“Steve, I’m gonna...” Tony warned, all his weight on Steve’s shoulders now, “I’m gonna…” 

It was good that what Tony ‘was gonna’ was obvious, as he couldn’t finish his sentence. When Steve didn’t pull off, Tony swore, shuddered violently, and swelled on Steve’s tongue. The first spurt hit the back of his throat and Steve backed off, stroking Tony slower - though not himself - so he could taste each drop as it spilled onto his tongue. Bitter, but somehow still sweet, and Steve moaned as he swallowed.

“Steve,” Tony said his name again, opening his eyes as he slowly eased his hips back from Steve’s lips. Reluctantly Steve let him go, but didn’t stop touching himself. Tony finally seemed to notice, his gaze slipping from Steve’s eyes, to his lips, then down, down until they widened. A moment later, Tony seemed to fall to his knees, but the way his hand slid under Steve’s shirt, pressing against his back said otherwise.

“Jesus, you’re something else,” Tony said, palm smoothing along Steve’s spine. The other knocked Steve’s hand from himself, curling around his cock and stroking as fast as Steve had been. 

Sliding sideways, Steve found himself leaning against Tony’s side, wrapping his hand around Tony’s, but letting him control the pleasure now. He didn’t regret it. Tony kissed along his jaw, then scraped his teeth over his pulse. Gasping, then moaning, Steve’s head fell back and his eyes closed against his will. It had just been too much, staring into Tony’s dark eyes, seeing in them that which Tony had been about to say before wasn’t just that he thought Steve was hot, or something else equally flighty. There was too much need, there, too much of what Steve could only call affection. He had serious feelings, feelings Steve had returned since Tony hadn't made fun of him on the helicarrier for not knowing anything about electrical systems. He'd just walked Steve through fixing their problem, risking his own life in the process. To say Steve had been impressed was an understatement.

Teeth sank into Steve’s ear and he shuddered, hips pushing into Tony fist.

“You look so hot like this,” Tony blurted, “I'd imagined, but this? This is so much better. Want you naked, Steve, see you writhing in pleasure.”

Steve groaned; he wanted that, too.

“Next time.”

Tony froze and Steve groaned again, louder. Thankfully, he took the hint and began stroking again a moment later, but the pause was just long enough to push his orgasm back. Tightening his hand on Tony’s, he urged them on faster, hips thrusting up to meet their joined hands every time. Tony didn't speak again, but Steve could feel his eyes, his face burning though he didn't try to stop it. Didn't want to. He was close, so close, and Tony’s hand felt so good on his cock, his breath tingled where it brushed his skin, and his lips made him burn wherever they touched.

Finally, finally, he squeezed Tony’s hand hard and came. Come spilled into their palms as Steve shuddered, turning his face and tucking it against Tony shoulder.

“Fuck,” Tony whispered.

“Maybe later,” Steve murmured.

Tony laughed and Steve smiled, lifting his head to lean against Tony temple.

“So, I'm going to assume this means we're kinda serious about each other,” Tony declared. If Steve hadn't know him so well, he would never have seen his uncertainty, or vulnerability, as he made the statement. Instead of answering, he turned his head and pressed their lips together in a slow, melting kiss.

“Don't worry,” Steve said, “For this, starting now will do just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr ](http://cleo4u.tumblr.com/)


End file.
